


Heart Skipping

by taekaneru



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Sports, Asking Out, Do Kyungsoo is a physio, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Park Chanyeol is one (un)lucky sod, Pining, but so fucking whipped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:13:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23667433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taekaneru/pseuds/taekaneru
Summary: In the following weeks and months, Chanyeol has often let his gaze travel through the gym, checking if he can spot Kyungsoo somewhere and if, as far as the man doesn’t seem busy, he can strike up some conversation—really, any conversation—again.Or:Something more than First Aid.
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 10
Kudos: 93





	Heart Skipping

**Author's Note:**

> Little deflection from all things I better should be doing instead. Please enjoy.

Chanyeol had it probably thought out since earlier this month. Ah, who’s he kidding – since last October. It’s _spring_ now.

Meanwhile, he has somehow conjured up a full action plan, two pages prep, five pages communication options for each of a set of various conversation starters and possible replies (including carefully weighted propensities for success), three pages different outcomes for the future.

No way unreasonably biased towards optimistic scenarios. Ahem.

Everything revolves around his personal D-Day. _Dyo-Day_ , if Chanyeol is more precise (and more whipped). _Date-Day_.

Most precisely _ask his hot, kind, polite, deadpan-humor, super smart, sweet, _totally_ hot friend from his local neighborhood gym, Do Kyungsoo, or Dyo (according to his insta), to go out with him_-Day.

Chanyeol does not remember the day he first saw Kyungsoo on the patch among all the training machines. But he still commemorates the first time he’d been the sole focus of Kyungsoo’s dark, round eyes.

His beautiful wide stare before he’d blinked, hints of a smile creeping up his amazing lips, deep smooth voice as he greeted him back when Chanyeol had cheerily shouted hello towards the bench press. He’d actually addressed Sehun, who’s his training buddy since they’d both enrolled for the gym, but Kyungsoo had popped up in front of him curiously when he’d rounded the corner. Not expecting someone else and momentarily stunned by the man’s presence, his smile had been shock-frozen on his face. 

Sehun was still mocking him about it.

But _how_ could he have reacted otherwise?

Kyungsoo is _stunning_. Well-built, broad but fitting his frame, smaller than him, expressive face, strong brows, tanned skin, and _that mouth_ , his voice. 

Gods. _So_ his type.

Kyungsoo had been on his way out and fortunately had not registered Chanyeol’s mental reboot, but Sehun had comprehended the situation instantaneously. He’d also told Chanyeol that Kyungsoo also regularly exercises at the gym, but that he’s some kind of trainer on top of that.

A week later, Chanyeol had had the guts to introduce himself to the guy, learning his name in the process. As they immediately clicked, Chanyeol pulling up his phone to show Kyungsoo the website of a boxing studio he’d went in the past when the other seemed interested, they’d also straightforwardly exchanged contact details.

However, Chanyeol hadn’t chatted often with him, fearing he would come on too strong and thus limiting himself to mostly sports-related things.

Although, he’ll admit, he’d been pretty much infatuated from the start.

In the following weeks and months, Chanyeol has often let his gaze travel through the gym, checking if he can spot Kyungsoo somewhere and if, as far as the man doesn’t seem busy, he can strike up some conversation—really, any conversation—again.

_Maybe_ Chanyeol’s gym days have increased by now. He’s working out there much more regularly than before Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo also hangs around the gym often, but Chanyeol seldom sees him actually training; only the few times when he was there early as fuck, when he couldn’t sleep. 

Sometimes he watches Kyungsoo helping other customers with their exercises, stealing glances at the man’s toned form and then silently scolding himself for ogling him immediately. At other times, he sees him vanish in one of the offices, predominantly the corner one; and then Kyungsoo’s again on the training area, showing people in business suits around.

Most of the time, he's wearing all black, jet black, sometimes a short-sleeved shirt (only when he’s helping people on the machines), but it’s essentially long sleeves and adidas pants. Regrettably meager skin-to-daylight-ratio. 

On the occasions of the suit-people showing up, he wears a button down and not the adidas pants, more like actual dress trousers. Well-tailored. _Very_ well. Black of course; sharp, like some kind of Hollywood-movie hitman. Gods. Why. _Why_ is that so hot?

Chanyeol can’t remember when he’d started to notice all these things, and when it felt he’d constructed a proper separate compartment in his brain for all occurrences of Kyungsoo’s state of dress and look. 

By now, he can recognize with a probability of approximately 99% if Kyungsoo has acquired a new piece of clothing or if he's just wearing something with slower closet-rotation. Over time, it even has stopped to feel abnormal.

Nevertheless, when Sehun had pointed out Chanyeol’s wandering eyes again while they’d been training together last Friday, he’d started to suspect that his mental look book on Kyungsoo might not be that common of a behavior. 

Well. 

There exists the possibility that the weirdness has taken over larger parts of his brain by now and abducted any judgmental capabilities he may or may not have possessed beforehand.

But back on track.

Today, after many longing looks, several conversations in the gym and some texts in the evenings on his phone, he will scrape and claw together every ounce of bravery, to perhaps amount to the height of his intrinsic desire—to get to know Kyungsoo more, spend time with him more, become a focus of his deep beautiful eyes more—and ask him out for drinks.

He pulls his Mercedes into the parking garage under the studio, carefully navigates to a free spot and turns off the engine. He twists to grab his bag from the passenger seat and gets out, letting the door fall closed and locking the car by sliding the back of his hand over the door handle.

Will Kyungsoo be here today? He should have just asked.

Anxiously waiting for the numbers in the elevator to rise, he fumbles with his bag’s handle over his shoulder. Why’d he refrained from texting him if he would be at the gym today again?

Checking his phone if he’s got any new texts (there are none), his heart almost stops as he sees a new insta-story that hadn’t been there before.

It’s Kyungsoo’s, from _two minutes ago_ , tagged with the gym and an eye-emoji, showing some new machines they finally must have gotten around to rig up. One of the short vids shows a dark-haired man, black pants, black shirt, strong shoulders, lifting up a relatively large barbell, with just his left arm. His knees are slightly bent, back straight, as he lifts the weight a few times and sets it down with control.

“Fucking fuck…”, Chanyeol mutters.

His fingers feel slippery all of a sudden. He _knows_ it’s Kyungsoo. He would recognize his stature among all others in the gym (staff and customers alike). He knows Kyungsoo is right-handed. He knows this weight is considerably heavy. He lifted it with his non-dominant arm…

Breathing in and out slowly, he forces his pulse down. Kyungsoo’s strength has him lightheaded.

_And_.

He’s here.

Chanyeol will really do it today. He hadn’t told Sehun off for their training for nothing—requesting privacy to finally ask Kyungsoo out—under the condition he would actually do it (or else buy Sehun those fancy new Airpods).

Now that the knowledge settles in, and now he has proof Kyungsoo is here, his fingers shake.

Managing to shove his phone back in the pocket he fishes for his member’s card just when the elevator opens. 

When he’s walking towards the entry desk, his heart pounds in his throat and he feels like in a film, everything around him overly sharp but at the same time sleek and blurred too much in the distance. A focus like in a tunnel.

Forcing a new breath into his lungs, he curses himself and wills his pulse down. He will at least make it onto the training area and _not_ faint before he’s even changed into his sports clothes.

_He has a full action plan, for fuck’s sake._

He checks in and greets the receptionist as friendly as usual.

“Hello Chanyeol,” she says while glancing onto his login screen. “We set up the new machines today, make sure you check them out! If you have any questions, please contact me or any of my colleagues and we’ll help you out,” she adds, winking.

“Yeah, I know, thank you,” he croaks, and makes for the changerooms. No Kyungsoo in sight yet. Which is, considering his cringy entrance, probably for the best.

Five minutes later finds him back, heading towards the functional training area, towel, water bottle, phone and skipping rope in a small bag.

Putting everything into the rack at the wall, he takes his rope and takes the spot near the window, swinging the rope left then right and starting to skip casually to loosen and warm up his body. He prefers rope skipping to other cardio methods as it allows him more variability than the treadmill or the ergometers. 

Skipping forwards a few minutes, then backwards and alternating between his feet, he discreetly looks around the halls. There are only few people here as it is a Friday evening and most other usual occupants of the gym would probably be getting started to get wasted by now. He sees another trainer with a client on the biceps machines and two guys at the pullup station. There are a few girls and guys on treadmills and cross trainers and a girl doing box jumps at the station next to his. 

Some of the people here he doesn’t recognize, but most he has seen more often for sure (there is this guy training his abs every Friday, really almost _every_ day Chanyeol is also at the gym—which is often—, what’s his name again? Suho, or something.).

Chanyeol switches to skipping on one leg, first left, then the right one.

Kyungsoo seems to stay hidden, although there is light in the left office—the one he’s gotten to call Kyungsoo’s office—so he’s probably in there.

How should he approach him? Should he wait for when he completed his routine or halt it once he spots Kyungsoo and catch him immediately? Maybe _immediately_ is better, as it’s nearing 10 pm already and Kyungsoo has to reach the end of his workday sometime now? Probably?

Going back to both-feet-skipping, he crosses the rope around himself, hopping on, before straightening and accelerating the tempo of his rope, bringing it to dash twice for one jump.

Gradually, sweat is forming on his skin, breaths quickening.

Also—why is that a question again? Hadn’t he thought everything through in his action plan? Why can’t he remember the page that the initial approach scenario was supposed to be on? Page two? Or three?

Another thought pierces through, bringing with it a rush of blood to the head.

_If_ Kyungsoo is in the gym still, _at all_ , that is. Perhaps the insta-post was scheduled? To counteract the usual Friday-evening-drought at the gym, coaxing lonely singles or people without friends off of their sofas and into the gym?

Chanyeol cannot ponder this for much longer, as the exact second after that logic has passed through the synapses in his brain, the connection between his hands and his feet seems abruptly cut short.

When he registers he’s stepped on the rope with his left foot it’s already too late. His right foot catches in the slope created by the rope still cutting through the air and with a half scream—half yelp, he crashes down. 

Feet tangled, hands tangled, face down onto the PVC-coated polished concrete floor.

The last thing he feels before his vision momentarily blacks out is a blazing rush of embarrassment.

He comes back to a girl shouting for an ambulance and another, smooth male voice soothing her and commanding her to fetch some cool towels and an ice bag.

Groaning, he finds he’s still on the ground, his head thrumming, his shoulders and left arm hurting as well. He moves his fingers, wiggles a bit and tries to push himself up.

“Yeol! Chanyeol, hey, slowly, be careful,” the smooth voice says, “You may have hit your head.”

Chanyeol groans. His whole body smarts, but now that he recognizes the voice and feels the hands supporting his torso upwards, he feels hot and achy for another reason altogether.

“Kyung- _Kyungsoo_ ,” he wheezes, head swimming from the quick motion and from the hot shame coursing through his body. “Sorry, sorry, ‘m so sorry,” he mumbles.

“Chanyeol, it’s okay! How do you feel? Any numbness?”

Chanyeol briefly considers this, but pain and humiliation aside, he’s probably okay.

Kyungsoo’s hands hold on to his shoulders now, grip firm but gentle and steadying.

“No, I think—I think I’m okay. _Oh god_ , I’m so sorry to be so much trouble.” He huffs slightly and some pain shoots through his left arm anew. He holds his arm to his body carefully.

Looking up, he finds Kyungsoo searching for eye contact. His gaze is concerned.

“Maybe my left arm hurts a bit,” he murmurs, unable to hold the look into his beautiful eyes.

“Can you get up?” Kyungsoo inquires, “I can check you over if you want. I’m a physio and maybe some rest and a glass of water will do you good. You do seem quite flushed.”

Chanyeol wants to die of shame. 

The girl returns with an ice bag and some white towels, and Kyungsoo carefully helps him up, supporting at least half his weight and Chanyeol reddens some more at the body contact. Feeling Kyungsoo’s warm, strong body and his arm wrapped around his waist, his arm does not really hurt anymore.

“Seulgi, can you clear up here and bring Chanyeol’s things into my office?” Kyungsoo addresses the other trainer who brought the towels. Chanyeol recognizes her from the reception earlier.

“Yep, no problem, boss,” she replies and Chanyeol stumbles a bit before Kyungsoo readjusts his grip and they enter the corner office.

“You’re the boss here?” he squeaks, and _oh my god_.

Chanyeol tries to take in the interior of the office. A desk with two monitors, large bookshelves on one wall and a little table with three chairs in the corner by the large palm tree plant, some merchandise and flyers lying there. On the other side of the room, beside a paravent there’s a daybed and some cabinets, with medical supplies, Chanyeol supposes.

Kyungsoo laughs, his face pulling into a gorgeous smirk.

“No, not actually, but as I’m a med student and trained physio I’m the medical supervisor of this studio. That doesn’t make me the CEO, but still…” he trails off, smile getting a bit shyer.

“Oh,” Chanyeol manages, out of words.

“Here, go sit down on the lounger. I’ll go get a glass of water for you.”

While Kyungsoo is out of the office, he lets his legs swing from the bed, his feet slide over the ground lightly, shoes catching on the coated floor.

So much for his D-Day. 

More like _Dumb-Day_ , anyway.

If he even slaps down during skipping, which is something he could normally do in his sleep, it’d be better if he postponed asking Kyungsoo on that date. More so because _who_ wants to go on a date with an oaf like him? 

Gods. _So_ fucking awkward. _Awkward_ should be his middle name.

“Hey,” Kyungsoo greets when the door opens. “These are your things, right?” He holds up Chanyeol’s bag and his bottle. Chanyeol nods, cheeks red.

“I hope you feel okay. I’ll admit I was quite worried when I heard you fell,” he goes on, stacking some towels on the cabinet to Chanyeol’s right and holding out a large glass of water.

“Thank you,” Chanyeol murmurs, head coming up to grab the glass and take a gulp. “And god, I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t feel dizzy anymore, but my arm—or more like, my shoulder—still hurts a bit.” He tries to roll the joint and winces.

Kyungsoo is at his side in an instant.

“Let me check, please?” he says, eyes on Chanyeol’s face again, hand hovering in the air between them.

“You don’t have to do that…”

“But I want to. I’ll just do some brief mobility checks, see if anything is injured severely. I’ll be really careful, you know.”

Kyungsoo’s hand finally settles on Chanyeol’s left arm, warm and solid, and when Chanyeol looks into the man’s face, beautiful face, sincere, concerned expression, brow furrowed, with what his brain interprets as a light blush on his cheeks, he supposes he maybe has not destroyed his meticulous plans and the circumstances of their application.

“’kay,” Chanyeol breathes, nodding his head.

Kyungsoo exhales in a rush, air fanning over Chanyeol’s face. Futile efforts, as it will possibly never cool down again.

“So, I’ll go over the whole procedure with you. Please say immediately if anything hurts, even if only to some extent, and I will stop instantly. It’s important that you understand that anything I do is not supposed to hurt, unless I say so. Nevertheless, if you want me to stop, even for no reason, I will.” 

His fingers seem to absently stroke up Chanyeol’s biceps, lightly grazing the soft skin before resting on top of the shoulder joint.

“And, Yeol—please be honest concerning any pain. There is no right or wrong here, just try to relax and let yourself feel.”

Oh my. _Fucking_. God. Gods. 

How shall he survive this day? Kyungsoo saying all those suggestive things…

He genuinely feels shortness of breath and dizziness, so maybe he’s already on his way to heaven.

But wouldn’t his shoulder smart so much then? Presumably not.

And also. _Yeol_. Kyungsoo also had called him that when he had lain on the floor outside. Already using nicknames… when did that happen? 

He just hopes Kyungsoo won’t measure his pulse, which must be far off beyond 200. This is all like a dream come true (minus the humiliation, of course).

“Okay,” Chanyeol replies, and then adds, “I’m sorry I’m such a clown. I swear I’m not normally this clumsy. I don’t know how that happened.”

“Well, that answers one of the questions I was going to ask. And _Chanyeol_ ,” Kyungsoo flicks a finger in front of Chanyeol, only to flick his nose when he follows the prompt of looking down. Chanyeol gasps, startled. Kyungsoo grins, “It’s okay. First, this is my job. And second, you’re my friend, so stop complaining that you’re some burden.”

The smile that creeps on Chanyeol’s features matches the one on Kyungsoo’s face and he chuckles.

“So, where were we? Yeah, so I’m going to start feeling your shoulder and arm. If something feels unusual, tell me. Also, please turn to your right? Yes, like that.”

Chanyeol angles his body to the side, still watching Kyungsoo.

The man’s fingers skip down from the shoulder to his hand, feeling each of his fingers, turning his palm up, stroking the inside of it. His fingers, strong and warm, find the pressure points at the base of his thumb, at his wrist. All of a sudden, Chanyeol feels tension drain from his limbs.

“Are you some kind of wizard? This felt strange… but good,” Chanyeol huffs, relaxing more.

“Just some pressure points, work like a charm,” he winks at Chanyeol, smile still tugging at the corners of his mouth. His hands then turn Chanyeol’s arm over, fingers skating up his forearm, right hand cupping his elbow, left hand straightening his arm, letting it hang down.

Chanyeol feels a tingle shoot up from his arm to the base of his neck. This feels nice. Almost too nice.

Next, both of Kyungsoo’s hands close around his biceps, Chanyeol swallows against a lump in his throat when he notices that Kyungsoo’s fingers don’t touch around his arm, although his hands are a pair of long-fingered, strong, beautifully capable hands.

“Everything still okay?” Kyungsoo asks, and Chanyeol can only manage a nod.

His fingers travel on upwards, smoothing over his clavicle and his shoulder blade, meeting at the base of his neck. They catch in the soft material of his muscle shirt.

Kyungsoo’s fingers slip down and start prodding a bit stronger, all around his shoulder, testing the muscles of the rotator.

When Kyungsoo applies some pressure to the trapezius, Chanyeol cannot help the wince that escapes him. Kyungsoo halts instantly.

“Here?” he asks softly.

“Yeah, when you press down— _ouch_ , yea, it hurts a bit. And when you go down there, ahh--” Chanyeol hisses when Kyungsoo flattens his hand over his upper deltoid towards his pectoral muscle and bears down gradually. As suddenly as the pain comes, the pressure is gone and with it, the pain as well.

“Okay, seems like there is some strain on the muscle.” Kyungsoo soothes, fingers tickling lightly across the warm skin of his shoulder and upper arm.

“Let me just carefully check your mobility. You may want to lie down for that.”

Chanyeol hopelessly sucks air into his lungs, lowering his body down the bed, legs dangling off the end.

Kyungsoo still holds his arm.

“Still with me?” he jokes, leaning over Chanyeol, waving his hand in front of his face.

Chanyeol catches it in his right hand, exasperated, “Ya ya ya,” and upping his game a little, “ _Kyungsoo_ , why are you doing this to meee?” he whines, wiggling a bit, but his eyes are formed into crescents and somewhat contradicting his desperate puppy act.

Kyungsoo huffs a soft laugh, squirms his hand free of Chanyeol’s grip only to slide his fingers between Chanyeol’s, pushing their hands up, holding them down next to Chanyeol’s face.

Chanyeol feels his face almost explode, and his body in no position to argue. Arms both secured by Kyungsoo’s strong hold, the man leaning over him, eyes glittering down into his. 

The blood rushes through his body, creating static in his ears. He cannot determine if he is still breathing.

Kyungsoo’s face adopts a serious, but fond expression, and Chanyeol might not want to fathom what he sees in his face now—when Kyungsoo’s eyes flick over his features and seem to rest on his mouth before settling on his eyes again.

Seconds pass. Some seconds more. Words are stuck in Chanyeol’s throat.

Kyungsoo seems to draw back, but _no_! Chanyeol doesn’t want that, so he huffs a breath, and deliberately admires Kyungsoo’s sensual mouth again, as he had done so many times from afar. From close up, his face is even more magnificent. Beautiful, clear skin, dewy, and his round, deep eyes, his lips… gods, they look amazing. 

_So_ kissable. What would they feel like on his? Their faces are only inches apart.

Chanyeol makes a show of looking onto Kyungsoo’s lips, trying to convey what he knows of body language, and tightens his fingers between Kyungsoo’s, stroking his thumb over the man’s hand.

“Yeol,” Kyungsoo breathes, anchored in the air between them, “I—this is not great timing, but I—I wanted to ask you something for a long time now.”

Chanyeol does not dare to breathe, eyes going large. He _does not dare_ to hope. But he _hopes_ he looks encouragingly enough for Kyungsoo to continue.

Kyungsoo’s eyes close briefly, and Chanyeol mirrors him, and when he opens his eyes, Kyungsoo has surmounted a capital part of their distance.

His voice seems to get even lower, washing hotly over Chanyeol.

“I wanted to ask you something. And tell you something.”

Chanyeol feels that familiar tingle from before shooting up his arm, through his legs, over his spine. A faint trembling creeps through him at the tension. 

“Because I—I really… I _like_ you, Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo finishes breathlessly, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. “And as I now already said that… I wanted to ask you if you want to go out with me.”

“ _’Soo_ ,” Chanyeol sighs, feeling immense relief; and it must show, as Kyungsoo comes even closer. He can feel his hot breath on his mouth.

“’Yeol,” he mutters quietly, “Can I kiss you?”

Chanyeol thinks this must be what spontaneous self-ignition feels like.

“Yes,” he breathes, and the next instant they’re already kissing.

It feels _amazing_. Kyungsoo’s lips are soft, so soft, hot and smooth. They open instantly on his, the faint suction feeling ethereal. Another second and they’re _really_ kissing, deep, almost frenzied, Kyungsoo’s mouth even hotter, wet, so supple; their tongues tangling, twisting.

Kyungsoo’s hands come up to hold his face, stroke his neck, trembling.

Chanyeol sighs into the kiss, his hands tentatively holding onto the man’s trim waist, fingers gripping his shirt.

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo murmurs between kisses, “I’ve wanted to kiss you _for ages_.”

“God, Soo,” he huffs, before his breath is stolen again from his lungs by another heated lip lock.

Kyungsoo kisses with total focus, lips sliding over Chanyeol’s, sucking his bottom lip for a second, then plunging his tongue into his mouth again, plundering for all it’s worth. 

Chanyeol keeps up, but it’s crazy, he has never kissed someone before with whom he matched so well. Kyungsoo licks behind his teeth, tickling the roof of his mouth while simultaneously pressing his thumbs just behind his jaw, and with a moan Chanyeol can do nothing but give himself completely over into Kyungsoo’s skillful hands.

A shudder washes through his body and his hands make their way under Kyungsoo’s shirt, smoothing over his sides, tugging at him, until Kyungsoo complies and heaves himself up the bed to lie on top of Chanyeol.

He presses the man down onto his body, holding him to him while they exchange almost desperate kisses.

“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol groans. His body aches, but not of pain. All his careful planning hadn’t been necessary, he hadn’t applied _one bit_ , and still, he got the most gorgeous man on earth in his arms. He is the luckiest man in the galaxy.

“Kyungsoo,” he repeats, “Yes, want you so much.”

“Yeol,” Kyungsoo groans, smearing his lips from his mouth down his jaw towards his neck, sucking and kissing the skin, marking the spot right below his pulse point.

Chanyeol cannot react with anything other than to give in to his desire to still feel closer to Kyungsoo, so he tugs at his shirt until Kyungsoo lets him strip it off.

He bends his right knee, letting his left leg dangle from the bed, and both men groan at the change in position, suddenly so much more intimate.

Kyungsoo ruts against him once, with a low moan, and the sensation of his hard cock against his has Chanyeol lightheaded with lust. His moan sounds so loud in the room, but it just makes Kyungsoo press down harder.

“Ahh, Kyungsoo,” he squeezes his eyes shut, his legs trembling, squeezing the man’s hips. His hands roam over his muscular back, gipping his sides, his biceps. He wraps his arms around him, holding him close. The heat between them increases, sweat condensing on their skin.

“Chanyeol, I—” Kyungsoo huffs into his neck, pushing himself up his hands. 

“Chanyeol, look at me. You—ah—you drive me crazy. I swear I wanted to wait, go on a few dates first, but having you here, now, under me, like this—I don’t know if I can stop.”

Chanyeol whimpers, a wave of lust washing through him.

“You’re so hot, Yeol,” Kyungsoo groans, one hand sliding over his chest, rucking his shirt up and smoothing down his abdomen. He captures his lips in a kiss again.

Chanyeol stops him to suck a hickey into his neck. Maybe two, maybe three. Kyungsoo arches his neck into his teeth, back tense, hips stuttering to a halt.

“Look at yourself,” Chanyeol mutters, “You’re so gorgeous.”

Kyungsoo trembles, burying his face in Chanyeol’s neck again. Chanyeol huffs a laugh. He tugs at his nape softly, pulling him into a kiss. 

His kisses taste so good. He’s already addicted.

He starts to writhe again under Kyungsoo, more forcefully now. His hands find Kyungsoo’s butt, hands gripping the firm cheeks tightly.

When he feels Kyungsoo’s hips rolling down more pronounced another whimper escapes him, his soft moans captured by Kyungsoo’s mouth.

“We have to keep it down, Yeol—ahh—god, we’re not alone.”

“I don’t care, Soo, please, it feels so good, _please_ , I—I need you.”

Kyungsoo groans, cursing under his breath, and that is so hot. 

This man is so fucking hot, his body, his face, his voice, how he speaks to him, how he feels, his hands, his arms, his mouth… his hips, still rolling slowly but oh so deliberately against his. He can feel his cock through his trousers, hot and hard, and he wants to get his hands on it, his mouth, wants to feel it skin on skin, wants to be naked with Kyungsoo—

“Oh, Yeollie, fuck,” Kyungsoo groans, and Chanyeol doesn’t know if it’s because he said all those things out loud or just _because_ , but he really doesn’t care. A beautiful man like Kyungsoo shall never be spared compliments.

Chanyeol feels Kyungsoo’s motions get more insistent, the grind down now hard, almost too much, but it’s also not enough, not enough, he wants more.

“Kyungsoo, I—fuck, ah—more, y-yes, yes,” he squeezes out between breaths and kisses, Kyungsoo still so close to him, too close to see him properly, and it feels all so good, his body is shaking with pleasure. 

His senses seem heightened, he hears each breath, each low moan of Kyungsoo, his skin smells so good, tastes even better, his teeth ache for him, and he bites down harder in the crook of his neck than he originally intended, but Kyungsoo— _oh_ , Kyungsoo.

A tremble goes through Kyungsoo’s body, the moan that tears out of him is considerably louder than any sound he’s made before and Chanyeol can make the connection so fast this professors would be proud of him—Kyungsoo’s breathing accelerates, he huffs _yes_ and _yes_ and _Yeollie, ah_ along with the rocking of his hips, and Chanyeol knows climax for both of them is only a hairsbreadth away.

So he tightens his arms around Kyungsoo, briefly licks his ear before going lower, tugs his right leg over Kyungsoo’s calf and bites down the tendons on his neck again, firmly.

Kyungsoo grinds down on him, Chanyeol’s hand on his ass pushing him _more, faster, harder_ , before his back arches against him on a hoarse moan. 

Chanyeol cannot breathe properly, because of his own moans that rip out of his throat, and then, when Kyungsoo says his name as if he’s wrecked, drunk on him, he comes, too, hot into his boxers, cock twitching, spurting, making a _mess_ , voice cracking on a sob.

He comes down a few moments later, legs trembling, but his hands are smoothing over Kyungsoo’s hot skin in sweeping, soothing motions.

“Hey,” he whispers, nose bumping into Kyungsoo’s temple, his head lying on his chest. He’s not sure his heartbeat will ever calm down again. “You ok?”

Kyungsoo huffs.

“I should ask _you_ that,” he gruffs, but with a twinkle in his eyes. He turns his mouth towards Chanyeol, and who is Chanyeol to deny him a kiss.

Their lips meet in several soft kisses, sweet pecks, but Chanyeol cannot resist Kyungsoo’s wicked tongue for long. Soon, they’re kissing deeply again, but this time without any rush; just feeling, reveling in the intense rush of endorphins.

“But yeah, I’m more than okay,” Kyungsoo says as soon as they part.

“I am, too.”

“Happy to hear. But we still have to finish our checkup,” he smirks.

Chanyeol laughs. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout the delay. Let’s clean up a bit first?”

“Yeah, here, let me.”

Kyungsoo lifts himself up from Chanyeol with just core strength and the power of his arms, and _wow_ , Chanyeol will have to investigate further how strong Kyungsoo really is. He’s handed a wet towel, which is unfortunately cold, but better than nothing.

Both men wince when reaching into their trousers and trying to fix some of the mess. Luckily, Chanyeol has a change of clothes in his locker; he assumes Kyungsoo has as well.

“Fancy a shower?” Chanyeol suggests with a wink, and Kyungsoo just playfully slaps his arm.

“Yes, but only a _shower_ -shower. Then finish checkup. But I think you can avoid an actual appointment with a doctor, as you would have noticed by now if there were something unsettlingly wrong.”

“Okay, doc, but I won’t avoid you” Chanyeol challenges, awed by Kyungsoo’s capabilities. On top of the fact that he was awed by him even beforehand.

Both gather their things, Kyungsoo packs up his bag as his shift actually ended at 10pm, and they make their way over to the changing rooms where Chanyeol’s locker and the showers are.

Kyungsoo bumps his shoulder lightly into Chanyeol’s good side.

“About that date?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you maybe want to go? Out with me, to dinner? Tomorrow, if you’re free?”

Chanyeol smiles, snagging Kyungsoo’s hand and bringing it up to his lips for a short kiss.

“Actually, that’s my line,” he smiles at Kyungsoo’s quizzical expression. “But that’s a long story.” He glances over at Kyungsoo’s happy face, then at his reflection in the mirror at the entrance of the changing rooms. They’re both wearing a matching blush. This is already so good, he’s so lucky.

“I’d be an honor to go to dinner with you. Eight at Masa’s? I’ll come pick you up if you text me your address.”

Kyungsoo tightens the hold on his hand, eyes crescents and lips a heart.

“Perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> This started out as something else, but I hope I somehow managed to reel it back in. There are a few references in it, so if you spot something, it’s probably intentional. Thank you to all writers and contributors here and elsewhere, keeping Chansoo alive and inspiring me with all sorts of prose ♥. 
> 
> Sorry not sorry.


End file.
